


The Aftermath

by Loch



Series: Save Your Eulogies [3]
Category: In the Flesh (TV), Les Misérables - All Media Types
Genre: Angst, F/M, M/M, Multi, Temporary Character Death
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2014-09-22
Updated: 2014-09-22
Packaged: 2018-02-18 10:57:34
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 2
Words: 910
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2345981
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Loch/pseuds/Loch
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>When most of the people you know just died, things get hard to handle.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> Set directly after How We Fall. I'm not too sure if my 'rising' of the Amis is canon with ITF, but hopefully that's not too annoying.

It was only the press of the crowd that saved Grantaire from serious injury. One moment he'd been standing on the table, the next someone was telling him to breathe and all he could see were blurs of legs and a few faces that he didn't know.

Similarly, he had no idea how he'd gotten home, but there he was, sitting on the floor in the kitchen, every alcoholic drink he owned lined up in front of him, cupboard handle digging into his back.

He'd conspired with Courfeyrac before the demonstration to get the Amis here to celebrate. 

His not-quite-plan to drink until thinking their names stopped hurting or until he stopped being able to think at all was interrupted by the sound of his phone ringing. 

There was only Joly and Marius left to call, and both of them had ended up being arrested. He wondered if this was a 'come get us,' in which case, he reasoned, it was better to answer it. The names and thoughts still hurt, but he couldn't turn up drunk to a police station.

His hand seemed to weigh far too much as he reached over his head to the counter.

"Yes?" His voice was so rough, he wasn't sure that he'd even made the word out.

"Hello, is this Mr. R Grantaire?" A clinically cheerful, slightly accented voice, but one that didn't know his first name. He didn't have the energy to be curious.

"Yes."

"I am calling from the PDS clinic, my name is Sam, and I was given your number by some friends of yours-"

He gave a heaving sob of a laugh. "I don't know what that is, and my friends- I don't have any." 

"And that's why I'm calling, sir. You may want to sit down for this." 

He stayed quiet.

"PDS is a newly discovered condition. It stands for Partially Deceased Syndrome, and your friends are sufferers. This means that, although they died, that have risen again -they are alive."

"Fuck you." He spat. "Fuck you, that's not funny."

"I'm not joking. In our facilities we currently have a Mr Enjolras, Combeferre, Courfeyrac, Fueilly, Lesgles, Mx Prouvaire and Bahorel, and a Miss and Master Thenardier who have all asked that you, Mr Pontmercy, and Mr Joly be contacted as well as their emergency contacts."

"I don't believe you."

"Most people don't, sir. Unfortunately, you can't talk to your friends at the moment, as they are being treated. However, we ask that PDS sufferers are collected by non-PDS people, so please come to the following address in four days, unless we call back with other information."

They reeled off the address, but he was still staring off into the middle distance in silence.

"Sir?"

He managed a noise of some sort.

"If you don't come to pick up your friends, they'll be held here until someone does." They said, but their voice was a bit less clinical, a bit less cheery. Then it lost all but pity. "I'm sorry, Mr Grantaire."

"You're not kidding about this, are you." There was so much disbelief in his voice, but he was beginning to register what he'd been told.

"No, Mr Grantaire."

He got up too fast, cracking his knuckles on a drawer as he tried to find a pen.

"Will you tell me that address again?"


	2. Chapter 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> We've seen how Grantaire dealt with the call, but what about the rest of it?

When he'd scribbled down the address and Sam had hung up, the first thing Grantaire did was call Joly. 

"R?" He didn't sound good, but at least he'd answered the phone.

"Did they call you?"

"The PDS people? Yes, just got off the phone with them."

There was a moment of held-breath silence before Grantaire asked what he was trying not to ask himself.

"Do you believe them?"

Joly paused, and he could almost see the scratching of the nose that was going on.

"I don't see why anyone would lie. And call at least you and me about it. They gave me an address, as well, so it seems reasonable to think that this PDS exists and that they have it."

Grantaire was about to hang there in awkward silence when Joly spoke again.

"Marius is calling me on the other line, one sec." 

A few moments later, he was back.

"He got the call too, was asking if I -we- had figured out how to pick them all up."

"Your car and his car, I guess. Musichetta as well, since there's nine with Ep and Gav." R replied, still a little stunned that Joly had just accepted the idea that their friends had died and then come back to life so easily. But then, hadn't he done the same? Maybe, he thought, it was that they just didn't want to think of their friends as gone forever.

Joly made a little pained noise. "Chetta didn't want to talk to the person. She said that she saw it coming, that everything would go wrong, but she didn't say to anyone. I'm going to go be with her, I'll text you later, okay?"

"Yeah, okay."

And it had really been that simple. They'd all got another polite call in four days time, telling them that they were to collect their friends the next day, and reminding them of the address.

The place itself didn't look how they had been expecting. A hospital, Joly had thought, maybe some special unit.

It looked like a prison, complete with chain link, barbed wire-topped fences and security checkpoints.


End file.
